Little Do You Know
by House MD Based
Summary: [Ben Whishaw as Q (Skyfall-Spectre)] [Daniel Craig as James Bond (Casino Royale-Spectre) Q gets himself into a bit of a predicament late one night and he doesn't think he'll ever see light again... [007/Q ROMANCE]
1. Chapter 1

_**Key:**_

 _ **Bold, Italic and Underlined - pre-story information**_

 **Bold - Auther's note in the middle of a paragraph**

 _'Italic With Quote Marks - First person thought'_

 _ **[Inspiration= 'Little Do You Know' by Alex and Sierra (You'll get it eventually... Hopefully)]**_

 _ **[This is an angst/humor fic]**_

 _ **[WARNINGS: Swearing]**_

 _ **[Ben Whishaw as Q (Skyfall-Spectre) and Daniel Craig as James Bond (Casino Royale-Spectre)]**_

 _ **Q gets himself into a bit of a predicament late one night he's struggling to get out of, and who should show up, but the man he's been trying to avoid**_

 _ **[007/Q ROMANCE]**_

 **[THIRD PERSON POV]**

Q's feet stumbled down the old fasioned cobblestone roads of London. Rain fell, as usual, in icy sheets and the winter wind cut through his fingers. A strand of his black hair flopped in front of his face and he wiped the water from his cheeks, still running as he did so. His hands were submerged deeply in the pockets of his oversized trench coat and the fingers of his left hand were clasping a small, cylindrical, plastic tube as if his life depended on it. He pounded through a puddle and murky water splashed from either side. He lost his footing and cursed softly before tripping onto the hard stone floor. His right hand smacked onto the cold surface and a grunt escaped his throat as he tightened his left fist around the object. Small splashes sounded from behind him before the scruff of his coat was tugged up and Q's lanky body hung limply from the trench's sleeves. A small whimper was heard amoungst the violent smacking of rain on the street and a sick smirk grew across Q's captive's face. "Got you. You little rat." He whispered and Q's stomach dropped. Q watched as the man brought a large needle up between the two's faces. Q clamped his eyes shut tightly, his fear of needles about to break him into a shaking mess. A sharp pain was felt in Q's neck and his eyes shot open before they fluttered closed again and eveything went dark.

The room was dark. No windows and one heavy looking metal door. There was a steel chair, drilled to the concrete floor, sat in the dead centre. On that chair sat Q. His head hung low and his eyes still shut. Light peered through the door as it opened slightly and a bulky looking man slipped in carrying a bucket. He ambled over to Q and stood, staring, before he threw the contents of the bucket over the skinny figure. Q spluttered and coughed as his head snapped up. "Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty." The man stated, his voice was deep and sounded as though it would rattle the earth if it went any deeper. Q just stared forwards at the mans muscles and regretting all the times he ever skipped P.E in secondary school. The man walked towards the far wall, set down the now empty bucket, picked up a litre bottle of water and a cloth and slowly walked back towards Q. Q gulped, having a faint idea of what was going to come next. If it was what he was thinking, he's seen it happen several times, four times on surveilance tapes, twice in movies... and once in real life. The man stood, deathly still, behind and Q's heart was hammering inside his chest

"W- What do you want from me?" He asked, his voice a nervous quiver.

"Nothing."

"Then... Then why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice broke slightly and he sounded like a fifteen year old boy. A sick smirk plastered itself on the antagonist's face but he wasn't in Q's line of sight so he couldn't see it... It's a good job... It would've made his stomach churn.

"For fun.". Q's breath hitched in his throat. The big man laced his finger's in Q's hair and yanked his head back, draped the cloth over his face and poured a quarter of the bottle of water over him. Q spluttered and coughed against the underside of the cloth, trying desperatly to take gulps of air, but just getting a mouthful of water and coughing again. His lungs burned from lack of oxygen and his body threatened to shut down when the wet barricade was removed from his face. Q took one big breath inwards, filling both his lungs with air at once before coughing a short cough and breathing inwards again. His head fell forwards as his breathing slowed down slightly to an almost normal pace. There was the sound of a slab of metal slamming and Q was alone once again. He clamped his eyes shut as tears threatened to escape his hunter green eyes. The warms tears mingled with the water that nearly drowned him and his mind was mangled. He couldn't think straight. The only thing he did know was that he heard himself whisper the word "Bond..." before everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

 _ **Key:**_

 _ **Bold, Italic and Underlined - pre-story information**_

 **Bold - Auther's note in the middle of a paragraph**

 _'Italic With Quote Marks - First person thought'_

 _ **[Inspiration= 'Little Do You Know' by Alex and Sierra (You'll get it eventually... Hopefully)]**_

 _ **[This is an angst/romance fic (I got this wrong on the previous chapter, sorry)]**_

 **[Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Blood, Graphic Descriptions]**

 **[Third Person POV]**

"God dammit you incompetant fools! Tell me where the hell he is!" James yelled, his voice projecting through Q branch.

"I... I don't know where-" One of the new interns bravely spoke up, half sheltered by a computer screen

"You don't know? What the hell do you mean you don't know?" He yelled again as the intern's eyes darted back to his computer screen avoiding eye contact with the clearly distressed double- oh agent. "You work in Q Branch for goodness sake! How the fuck can you not track his cell or use you're stupid IP Adresses?"

"Uhm... I think you're forgetting the person you're wanting us to track _is_ Q... We can't track our own Quarter Master... It's virtually impossible, I mean the amount of encryption we have in all of our personal computers is barely equal to half the level of code Q has in his doorbell... his fricken _doorbell..._ " A senior worker answered. James' cheeks flushed a shade of red that was foreign to his face in both anger and embarrassment at how he's acting, underestimating Q at what he's good at, if Q was hearing this he'd more than likely not be getting any new gadgets for months, maybe even years. The kid took pride in his work, in his talents, there was no doubt about that.

"Well just fucking try and if you don't even make the effort so help me I'll-"

"Bond!". James' head snapped to whoever used his second name and not his number... everyone at MI6 uses his famous number...

"Ma'am?" He answered as M stood in the glass doorway to Q branch, a forlorn look in her eyes "Ma'am, what's wrong?"

"We found a suspect..."

"What? A suspect, Ma'am?"

"Q... He's been abducted...". James' heart dropped and there were slight gasps coming from a few of the inhabitants of Q Branch as all keyboard tapping and tea sipping halted.

"Where's this suspect?". A tinge of coldness had crept into Jame's tone and M hesistated before revealing the suspect's location.

Agent Double Oh Seven stormed out of the doors into the corridors of MI6. He was no longer James. He was Double Oh Seven. He was Agent Bond. James was left behind back at Q's empty desk. He barreled through a door into an interrogation room and the man sat alone on the metal chair jumped out of his skin. 007 lunged forwards, grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and slammed his back into the wall.

"Where the fuck is he?". The interogatee just laughed straight at Bond's face, in other words he just signed his death warrant. The agent threw the suspect across the room where he pummeled into the one way mirror, effectively smashing it before falling into a heap on the floor amongst the shards of glass. Double Oh Seven strode forwards and picked the man up, placing him back on the chair. "Where. Is. He?" He asked again as the man studied the thousand or so small cuts on the palms of his hands. Bond watched as the idiot oozed blood from a majority of his exposed skin, like he was sweating the stuff.

"You're probably too late anyway." The man spat through yellow teeth, his voice fairly confident.

"You tell me where the fuck he is or I swear to God I'll shoot you where you are."

"Shoot me... and you'll never find out where your precious Q is being tortured." The man replied with a tinge of arrogance in his words.

Bond strode out of the door and through the oddly empty corridors again. He stumbed into M's office as she sat behind her desk, shuffeling paperwork around like it was a regular wednesday night.

"How can you be sat there, procrastinating paperwork, pretending that one of our _own,_ probably one of the most important, irriplacable member, is not even out there somewhere, in trouble, in need of help!?" James asked as M looked up slowly and unamused.

"Ever heard of knocking?"

"You're missing the point! Did you hear anything I just said?" He asked, his cheeks were burning with rage and he felt as though he was going to snap.

"I heard you, Double-Oh Seven."

"Then answer me!"

"Double-Oh Seven, If I was to lay awake all night because an MI6 employee is missing from the field, I'd never get any sleep, especially since we emplyed you, Bond."

"That's different! I was trained for it, Double Oh six, and Double oh FIve... _We_ were all _trained_ for that... Q isn't trained for it. He doesn't know how to withstand beatings, he doesn't know what to do, how to avoid questions in an interrogation... He doesn't know how to keep the will to live as he's being tortured for god knows what!" James screamed, tears threatened to fall for the first time in years and he displayed a subtle, heartbroken expression on his slightly pained face.

"The Quarter Master is being tortured?" M asked, ignoring the looks on James' face, ignoring the rest of his exclamation.

"Yes."

"How do you know this 007?"

"The suspect told me.". M seemed to hesistate slightly.

"Q's a big boy. He'll... He'll live."

"Do you _honestly_ believe that?" James asked, as his arms fell limply to his sides.

"No."

"Then do something to help him!"

"I'd love to, Bond. But we simply don't have the resources for a search party big enough to find him."

"Fine." James exclaimed like a fed up little boy "I'll find him myself.". 007 walked strongly out of the room as M called several phrases after him, attempting- very poorly- to get Bond to stay.


	3. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER 3**_

 _ **Key:**_

 _ **Bold, Italic and Underlined - pre-story information**_

 **Bold - Auther's note in the middle of a paragraph**

 _'Italic With Quote Marks - First person thought'_

 _ **[Inspiration= 'Shouldn't be a good in goodbye' by Jason Walker (I'm honestly so, so sorry about this chapter... I cried onto my keyboard writing this)**_

 _ **[This is an angst/romance fic]**_

 _ **[A.N: I'm literally so, so damn sorry about this. If you feel as strongly about Q and James as me then this may fuck you up for a bit. It's a horrible ending so this chapter is not for the faint hearted. THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER btw.]**_

 **[Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Blood, Graphic Descriptions, EXTREME HEART WRENCHING SADNESS]**

 **[Q's POV]**

My head hammered. My pulse was racing and my forehead throbbed in rhythm with each erratic beat. My eyes fluttered open and suddenly the events of the night before came rushing back. The room. The water... The last words I spoke before losing my consiousness. However I couldn't remember everything, there were still gaps. Blurs with only cutscenes. All of what I _could_ remember was horrible, so I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or annoyed by the memory lapses. Bond's told me about this before: Sometimes your brain blocks out traumatic events to reduce the mental damage. Maybe that's what was happening with _my_ memory...

I was sure my face resembled a watercolour painting of the ocean; shades of black and blue. I felt the sting of a cut on my cheek and I could have sworn I felt a drop of blood cascade it's way down my cheek, following the structure of my jaw and ending up on the corner of my bottom lip. I licked my dry lips and the strong, metallic taste that wracked my tongue confirmed my theory. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as things flashed in front of me. I felt the pain as if it had happened five minutes ago. I remembered the fear as if it was permently etched into my chest. I felt the longing for someone as if I've never been loved. When... _if_... I get out of here... I'm alone. I have no one. I'm so used to burying my problems and my feelings in my work I have had no time for a life. I haven't lived... and now I'm going to _die._

"No." I whispered. I'm _not_ going to die. James alway did hate my pessimistic attitude towards life. I thought about Bond. He was probably sleeping like a baby, with a girl by his side, and no idea how much hurt I'm in, nor care much about the latter. How can I care so much for one person, to the point where I'm willing to lay down my life for them, and yet want to keep my life so bad? How can I be up all night, drowning my feelings in a bottle or pushing my emotions away with an all nighter in Q branch, and the other person be so content with closing their eyes at night? So easily ending one day and starting another whilst I'm still hung up on a day that happened a month ago? How can he be so content with letting sleep consume him? Letting dreams flood his mind? My body suddenly felt tired. Every inch of the bones in my body that weren't broken ached and my eyes slowly grew heavier and heavier with each blink until unconciousness won the battle and my eyes fluttered closed.

 _My bare feet pounded the soft sand and the warmth seeped through the bottom of my feet and seemed to travel straight to my heart. A smiled spread across my lips but I didn't slow down. The breeze blew against me, flying through my cable knit sweater and blowing my oversized trench coat behind me as I ran. How could the sand be so warm but the air be so cold? As I ran forwards my feet were enveloped by a cold liquid, which effectively stopped me in my tracks. I inhaled sharply as the heimel temperatures finally seemed to register in my brain. In front of me was the ocean. Thats it. The ocean and the sky. it was so calm. The sun had started creeping downn towards the sea, like it was slowly and hesitantly going in for a kiss, and the blue had started fading as shades of purple appeared, like bruises, in the clear sky. A pair of cold, strong hands materialized on my waist and hoisted me into the air._

 _"Hey!" I exclaimed as I was flung over his shoulder. My arms hung lumply below my head as I gave up struggling. My fingertips briefly touched the salty water, disturbing the calm body and creating ripples on the surface which became bigger and bigger before fading away back into the ocean. Why was the ocean completely still? A small fish swam around his feet a couple of times before floating still, then it hit me: The water was crystal clear. How? It was the ocean. The huge, dirty, polluted and salty ocean... How was it as clear as glass? My heart beat sped up. Something was wrong, I could feel it. James was just stood there, staring at the beach, with his back against the sea, shunning it. "James?" I asked. Blood started rushing to my head and I felt dizzy "James, can you put me down, please?". The only responce was a shush. I brought his index finger up to his lips and shushed me. "James what's wrong?". He lowered me into the water and started walking towards the sand of the beach, leaving me lying in the oddly science-defying ocean. The first time in years I've been genuinely happy and I_ know _something bad is going to happen. My clothes were soaked and my body was freezing cold. I reluctantly hoisted myself up onto my feet and starting following in James' steps. I watched his back as it walked further and further away from me. He was pushing me away again, locking me out. I couldn't let that happen. He pushed me away before... and that ended extremely painfully, both physically and mentally. I mean... I love him, I can't let him push everyone away again, I can't let him be alone. Just then a_ bang _echoed across the coast and my head snapped up just in time to see his limp body fall into the water "JAMES!" I screamed so loud my throat hurt. I clumsily put one foot in front of the other rapidly in an embarrasing attempt at running. It took me five minutes to reach him. The formally clear water surrounding him was tinted in a harsh and deep shade of red. I threw myself at his side and his eyes started to flutter shut. "No. James no. Don't..." I pleaded, I examined his body before confirming there was a bullet hole in his left shoulder. I placed the palms of my hands on the wound and applied as much pressure as my muscles allowed._

 _"Q... You need to... leave." James choked out, his voice scarcely a whisper._

 _"I'm not going anywhere." I concluded. James took in a shakey breath before:_

 _"Q... You need to... leave."_

 _"Why!?" I yelled "Why do I need to leave?!" I screamed_

 _"Because... They'll kill... you..."_

 _"So what?" I asked and a heartbroken look flashed in James' eyes "I mean, if you're dead then what do I honestly have left to live for?" I asked him and a responce formed on his lips before I cut him off "Work? I would not be able to step foot in MI6 if you died. I'm still young? I've lived the past month of my life with you and in that one month, I've lived more than in all the 25 years of my life. I have no family. No friends. I've spent my whole life in my work and if you die, I won't be able to make another gun, or fix another obliterated Aston Martin ever again without seeing your smile, without remembering the late nights you'd spend pestering me when I was supposed to be working, without remembering the way you'd look at me when I yawned or the way you'd say 'I told you so' when I started falling asleep at my desk" Tears streamed down my cheeks and a smirk tugged at the corners of James' lips_

 _"You have a mortgage, and two cats to feed." He said simply and I couldn't stop a slight laugh from escaping my mouth. My face suddenly dropped_

 _"Don't leave me..."_

 _"I don't have a choice... You'll be okay.". I clamped my eyes shut to prevent more tears from escaping. I shook my head quickly_

 _"I don't want you to go..."_

 _"I don't want to go."_

 _"Q!". Another voice was heard from the sand of the shore. My head snapped up to see Moneypenny sprinting towards us._

 _"James?" I asked, looking back down to his closed eyes. I removed my hand from his shoulder and shook him "James. No James. Please no!" I yelled and I felt a light hand on my shoulder_

 _"Q... We need to leave..."_

 _"Why are you here?" I asked, it sounded harsh but I wasn't in the mood to be kind. I wasn't in the mood to be anything really._

 _"M sent me... I'm sorry.". I stood to my feet, not taking my eyes off of James_

 _"You're sorry?" I asked and I tried to stop what was coming... I really did try... "Oh. You're sorry. James was just fucking shot._ Shot _! While we were at the beach. I was finally happy and now it's gone. Finally, I had something... some_ one... _to live for, and I just watched the life drain out of him right in front of me. Do you know how that feels?". She shook her head and then hung it in shame "So don't tell me you're sorry. 'Sorry' doesn't bring people back." I concluded._

 _"I'm still sorry, Q." She replied "And we need to leave."_

 _"I'm not leaving him."_  
 _"Q, you're being irrational."_  
 _"I'm allowed to be irrational."_

 _"your irrationality is going to get us killed."_

 _"I'm not leaving him." I repeated stubbornly as I just stared at James' motionless body as it lay in the water. The blood had spread, causing a larger radius around him to be red and, even further out, pink._

 _"Don't make me do this..." Moneypenny said heartbroken. I stood my ground. "I'm sorry.". She grabbed my arms, held them behind me and started pulling me away from him._

 _"No! No, stop! James!" I screamed and tried to run back towards him but my feet wouldn't work, and it felt as though, if I did stand back on my own, my legs wouldn't be able to hold my weight. I kicked and thrashed with my legs but Eve was persistant. Sobs wracked my body as I was being dragged away from the only person who's ever meant aything real to me. The only person who's made my life worth living was dead. dead. As in not alive. The last time I hugged him was the going to forever be the_ last _time I hugged him. The last time I kissed him was going to forever be the_ last _time I kissed him. I felt as though all the wind had been knocked out of my stomach and a hole had been puched straight into my soul. Only now did I realsie the true feeling of loneliness..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 _ **Key:**_

 _ **Bold, Italic and Underlined - pre-story information**_

 **Bold - Auther's note in the middle of a paragraph**

 _'Italic With Quote Marks - First person thought'_

 _ **[Inspiration: 'Skyfall' by Adele. Ironic, ey? haha]**_

 _ **[This is an angst/romance fic]**_

 **[A.N: Sorry it has taken so long to update, writer's block ya' know? Anyways I really did not know how to carry this on from Q's point of view so here's a bit of a short James focussed chapter to tide you over until I decide how I'm carrying this on, If you have any suggestions as to what happens to Q or James next please feel free to message me or even leave a review of it, it would be GREATLY appreciated, honestly. It's the 22nd of december and in three days it's christmas again...**

 ***Half heatedly, and hardcore saracstically yays because ew christmas***

 **I really hate christmas so you might get an upload on christmas day because I'd honestly rather be writing than celebrating.]**

 **[James' POV]**

I stormed out of MI6. How can M be so ignorant? I mean, has she met Q? He's harmless and she expects me to leave him God only knows where being tortured. That thought made my stomach lurch... What if he was already dead? No. I always scold Q for his pessimism so why should I start? The protective 'Big brother' in me wanted to find him before he got too hurt, but another part of me _needed_ to find him no matter what, I couldn't put a label on the latter part of me. It was the part of me that made my chest ache when I knew he was in trouble, or when he missed work. The part of me that couldn't help but laugh at his terrible jokes or his cyniscism. The part of me that absolutely terrified that the last damn thing I said to him would in fact be the last thing I'll ever say to him.

"Don't worry Q, I'll be back in Q Branch to break some more inventions faster than you can say 'A mortgage and two cats to feed'." I repeated aloud into the darkness of a London night. I can't believe that is the last thing I said to him. Why couldn't it be something more meaningful, like _'I think your inventions are really cool'_ or _'You are such a child genius.'_ or maybe _'You know, The way you tild your head like that? It's cute'_ but the one thing I'll never say is "Q, I-" My words were cut off as a rushing man walked straight into me

"Terribly sorry." He exclaimed before carrying on his way.

"Hm". I watched a piece of paper float to the floor, cushioned by the slight breeze that flew through the air. "Excuse me!?" I yelled turning around "I think you dropped...". It was no use, he was already way out of earshot. Curiousness getting the better of me I bent down and picked up the paper. I unfolded it carefully revealing a scrawled and quick page of writing that appeared to be a letter, the handwriting seemed unusually familiar.

 _'Dear James'_

My stomach lurched. "I'm sure there are millions of 'James's in London..." I told myself

 _'Dear James,_  
 _I've gotten myself into quite the predicament but it isn't my fault. I_ promise _you that it isn't my fault. I didn't want this, but I got it anyway and all that's left is to deal with it as it comes and hope I survive..._  
 _Best Regards'_

I gulped audiably. The next signature triggered an ache in my chest I didn't know existed. Worse than a bullet, or ten.

 _'Q'_

A hand shot up to my mouth and covered it as if I was trying to silence any agonizing sound that I felt might come out of my mouth "Q..." I whispered.


	5. AUTHOR'S NOTE!

_**ARRGGHH!**_

 _ **Okay, back to reality for second:**_

 _ **Hello. Okay, I want to start by apologising so much, because I have not updated this in like forever and Oh My God I feel so bad and Like I'm sooo sorry.**_

 _ **Now we've got the apologetic paragraph (Is it long enough to be a paragraph? We'll just call it a sentence.) Sentence out of the way, lets get onto the good stuff (Well, not really good, not for me anyway... or you... Yeah it's not good):**_

 _ **1: I am not going to be updating this a lot. I will, but not a lot and not frequently, like it will be less than once a fornight (Two weeks, if you don't know what a fortnight is. It's two weeks)**_

 _ **2: I have exams, GCSEs, and I'm being told constantly I need to revise for this stuff and like I'm behind on my coursework for two of my subjects and I'm behind on a practical in my third so I've devoted a lot of my free time to school work, which yes, I know, it sucks. I'm not happy about it either.**_

 _ **3: I have recently decided on a very VERY ambitious career choice which demands I get A's in like every subject including maths and science which I SUCK at so I'm also devoting a lot of my time to extra work and research and basically just forcing myself to understand so I can move my grade up form like an D to an A real quick.**_

 _ **4: I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW TO CARRY THIS STORY ON. Like, I try and I try but I just cannot get inspired to have ideas and even when I have ideas Ihaven't the motivation or skill to put those idea into words...**_

 _ **TO CONCLUDE, young Padawans, I am swamped with school work and the expectations of society and I have no inspiration or motivation to carry this on.**_

 _ **JUST REMEMBER:**_

 _ **This. Is. NOT. The End.**_

 _ **Cheerio old chaps for a good month or so :D**_


	6. Chapter 5

_**[Inspiration: "The Scientist" by Coldplay]**_

 _ **[This is an angst/romance fic]**_

 **[A:N: Woah, long time no read/write, Stranger :) My life's going... better than it could be. Just back to back hospital appointments about my mental health... but right now in this moment is good. I'm typing whilst my beautiful, kind, amazing, phenomenal, sublime girlfriend is lying, half naked and asleep, next to me. I, however, cannot sleep, which is why you have anew chapter for the first time in God only knows how long at 22:53 at night. It's a saturday night though so it's all good, no reason to be up early tomorrow. This chapter is all improv as I try not to wake the girl beside me with the clacking of my keyboard, bless her. She'll probably never read this. She isn't part of the fandom, and she probably wouldn't care about my writing... She's an amazing writer, she doesn't do it enough though to want an account :/ ANYWAY! Enough gushing about my gal and on with the fic. Remember: All Improv, no plan]**

A sharp pain rushed against my cheek as my head was forced sideways slightly. My eyes shot open, and a gasp clawed it's way desperately out of my mouth as my blurred vision never faded into focus. All I saw was the fuzzy silhouette of a person. A man. Around six foot. Okay, not much he has on me height wise. Two inches, barely anything. Big build, bulky. Either muscle or body fat, either way it gave him an advantage against my scrawny little figure. The blurred lines and lack of definition caused my eyes to blink rapidly, earning me another crack against the side of my face. Gasping again, I attempted to move my hand to touch my cheek, but an excruciating affliction caused a wince to wipe across my features.

"Look at you," the man spat at me, his face- from what I could tell- displaying a disgusted, maybe disappointed look, two looks I know all too well. "Such a smart boy, yet outsmarted by a group of thugs." Something in my brain must have begun to snap, because I couldn't help myself from just clarifying:

"Not 'Outsmarted', Over powered. You're not smarted than me. Very little are." I told him calmly, my face portraying a false sense of confidence.

"Brains don't matter when you got muscles. No need for puzzles when you can just threaten people." He defended, and I just laughed. A belittling laugh. My uncharacteristic arrogance must have hit a nerve in the man's body, as swiped his palm across the side of my face once again. The sting from the second time still having not disappeared yet, I bit my cheek to stop whimpering or exclaiming from the pain.

"Why have you taken me?" I queried, and a wicked smirk split the man's face in two, making my stomach feel a little uneasy. I shifted my weight and his smirk simply got wider.

"Leverage."

"Can you even spell 'leverage'?" I asked, and his face dropped.

"Blackmail." He corrected and I shot him a disinterested look.

"Spell it."

"B-L-A-C-K...". Panic set in his dark eyes and it was my turn to smirk like a prick, "M-A-L-E." he concluded, and I couldn't stop from rolling my eyes. What had washed over me? It was like I had no control over my body. Everything felt a little hazy, I wasn't really afraid of losing my life anymore, I had an impossible sense of immortality. An unachievable level of confidence, for me anyway. As if... As if anything was possible. My eyes began to grow heavier yet again, as the world seemed to acquire an almost foggy tinge. Like I was looking through frosted glass. Like everything was suddenly wrapped in cellophane or Clingfilm. The began to close, but I bit down hard on my lip to try and shock myself back to full consciousness, however it only worked for a few seconds before drowsiness took over my whole body again. Suddenly, moving any part of my body seemed to feel as thought it would take the same amount of effort as running several marathons. My head dropped, and my eyes began to close. I felt a fist grip the hair on the back of my head and yank my head up again. It was the man from before, this time close enough for my poor eyesight to see semi-clearly. A scar ran effortlessly down the left side of his face like a river. A river that's been there for years, eroding away at his very skin longer than I've been alive. It started just above his eye and ran until the corner of his mouth. "G'night, Sleeping Beauty." He stated through amused, dull eyes, before releasing my hair from his grasp. My head fell forwards with such force I felt my neck strain, grunting in pain as a door far away from me was slammed shut. I could feel my consciousness slipping away, there was no point fighting it this time, so I simply let the darkness behind my eyelids swallow me whole, a part of me hoping I never saw the light again.


End file.
